A Bet Gone Wrong
by Predatory Fuzzball
Summary: PG for language and well, just read and review! Another take on Snape teaching a sex-ed class
1. A Bet Gone Wrong

"You know something?" Minerva McGonagall asked, taking off her hat and attempting to balance it on the back of her chair.  
  
"What?" Albus Dumbledore replied.  
  
"I think I'm drunk," she announced.  
  
"I've known that for the past hour," Severus Snape commented from the corner he was sitting in.  
  
"And how would you know?" she demanded.  
  
"Oh," he shrugged, "just the fact that you've been SINGING for the past hour."  
  
"The HILLS are alive!" She warbled. Snape put his head in his hands and started to laugh.  
  
"This is just rich!" he managed to get out as Professor Flitwick levitated himself and bounced off the ceiling.  
  
"Five professors at one of the most prestigious wizarding schools in the world are totally shit faced. We better hope none of those mangy brats called students wander in to the staff room!"  
  
Just then Dumbledore emerged from the adjacent room with what looked like a pink bed sheet wrapped around his head.  
  
"Look! I'm Quirrell!" he exclaimed.  
  
"Yes, pink always did look better on him than purple," Flitwick said as he bounced off the door. There was a giggle from the corner opposite Snape, and Sybil Trelawney crawled out from the table she had been sitting under.  
  
"This is fun!" She said. "Why don't we do this more often?"  
  
"Probably because of the terrible hangovers we'll all have in the morning," Snape replied. "We'll all be crabby and take points off for no other reason than because we can."  
  
"Oh!"  
  
"Severus?" McGonagall asked.  
  
"Yeah?" He replied. Dumbledore looked at Snape and shook his head. That boy really needed to stay out of Canada. He was starting to talk like them.  
  
"Well. Try to no treat Gryffindor too badly, alright?"  
  
"Here's a deal," he said instead. "How about I take points off of Gryffindor, Hufflepuff, and Ravenclaw, and you take points off of Ravenclaw, Gryffindor and Hufflepuff?"  
  
"Okay!" McGonagall replied happily, not realising that she had been hoodwinked. Then the light bulb clicked on. "Hey."  
  
Snape just smirked while Dumbledore kept trying to keep his "Quirrell turban" from falling off; Trelawney had crawled back under her table, and Flitwick had managed to get tangled up in the ceiling fan and was laughing hysterically.  
  
"Millions of peaches, peaches for me." McGonagall sang softly while looking at Snape with a cunning look in her eye. Snape was busy watching Flitwick and didn't notice her look.  
  
"So, Severus," she began.  
  
"What now?"  
  
"I have a proposition for you."  
  
"What?" he asked warily.  
  
"A bet." He was just drunk enough to be curious about it.  
  
"I bet that I can stay awake longer than you can tonight," she said. Snape thought about it for a moment.  
  
"What are the stakes?" he finally asked.  
  
"The girls' sex-ed class tomorrow."  
  
Snape looked at McGonagall. She was starting to sway where she sat, and was looking at him fuzzily. He, on the other hand, was still raring to go.  
  
"Sure," he finally said, fully confident that there would be no cheating. He realized his mistake when he saw her evil smile, and heard Dumbledore whisper something behind him. All of a sudden, all he wanted to do was curl up with that nice fuzzy kitty sitting on the ground a few feet away. The room was soon filled with the soft snores that announced he had lost the bet.  
  
"That was evil, Minerva," Dumbledore said, watching the sleeping professor.  
  
"I know," she replied with a laugh, and proceeded to fall asleep herself. 


	2. The Next Morning

Disclaimer: I forgot to admit that none of these wonderful characters belong to me. Sorry, it was just part of my plan to take over the world. And yes, that includes Snape, that wonderfully sarcastic, and greatly sadistic creature. Nor do I own Dracula Dead and Loving It. I do own Patricia Eston, however, and she will be one of the main characters in both of the other two fanfics I'm writing at this point in time.  
  
  
  
The next morning, Snape woke up with a horrible headache and an equally horrible feeling of doom. He sat up, trying to figure out where he was, and saw Minerva McGonagall sleeping a few feet away. All of a sudden, he knew why he felt that something horrible was about to happen.  
  
"But I lost through cheating!" he said out loud.  
  
"You still lost. Sorry!" McGonagall said tiredly. Snape could tell by the look on her face that she wasn't sorry in the least.  
  
"Bitch."  
  
McGonagall just grinned.  
  
"I try."  
  
Snape scowled at her and then winced when he felt his head pound. He got up and staggered down to his office to take a headache potion. He had to think of a way to get out of this. The class wasn't until 2:30, so that gave him.  
  
"Holy shit! I slept till noon?!?!?!?" he shouted when he looked at his watch. "Dammit, dammit, dammit!!! I don't have time to get out of it!"  
  
"Get out of what?" asked a voice he had hoped he wouldn't hear. Turning around he came face to face with the love of his life, Patricia Eston.  
  
"You already know," he accused, seeing the wicked grin on her face.  
  
"Yes I do know. Just a pity I wasn't there when you realized what you have to do today. Minerva said it was the funniest thing she's ever seen," she said sadistically. "I'll make you a deal though," she continued, gently touching his face. "You teach the sex-ed class, and I will give you your very own advanced sex-ed lesson after you're finished." She looked up at him with an expression that promised many things, and he caught his breath. (A/N: sorry, I just love that phrase)  
  
"Okay," he managed to get out before she very effectively shut him up by planting a very passionate kiss on his mouth. He was reminded of why he loved her so much; she was gentle and loving when the situation called for it, yet wild and untamed when they were alone. She broke the kiss and when he looked at her, hew saw that her face was flushed, and he had managed to muss up her normally unmussed hair.  
  
"I want to suck your." she trailed off as she looked over his shoulder. "Blood. Dracula Dead and Loving It. Good movie that. Well, got to be going! See you at dinner, Professor!" And with that she spun around and headed in the opposite direction leaving him swearing that he would curse whichever student had-  
  
"Oh, hello, Headmaster," he said coolly when he turned around.  
  
"Severus," Dumbledore acknowledged with a smirk. "She wants to suck your blood, hey? Didn't get enough of vampires when she was with Quirrell?"  
  
Snape felt the blood rushing to his face, and was quite glad that it was mostly dark in the lower corridors.  
  
"Well, must be off, Albus, have a headache that just won't go away." With that, his headache returned full force and he retreated to the safety of his office muttering, "Potion. Must have potion. Pretty purple coloured potion. Need pain reliever. The world is spinning. going dark. the walls are closing in. can't take it anymore. oh the humanity!!!! Dracula Dead and Loving It???? What the hell is THAT??? Bloody Muggles. Can't even realize that Dracula wasn't a vampire; he was a bloody WHORE for the love of Pete!!! Oh. Wait. That was his daughter. Never mind." He looked through his cabinets not realizing he was talking to himself before conceding that he couldn't take the one thing that would help the most. He looked longingly at the bottle of Irish Cream Whisky before putting it back in his room. Sitting on his desk, he stared blankly at the wall, willing time to suddenly stop. 


	3. So Many Questions

Disclaimer: Hmmm. Do I own Snape? No. sadly. Do I own any of the other Harry Potter characters? No. Patricia Eston is me, all me. I mean, MINE, all mine, and. yeah. Anyway. Some of the questions asked are owned by the members of Mr. Doolan's Biology 12 class. Thanks guys! The Doorbell Analogy belongs to Grindylow. If you haven't read her Snape in sex-ed story yet, go read it. Bloody hilarious!  
  
  
  
Two hours and twenty minutes later, he admitted that if time hadn't stopped for him the day before Harry Potter decided to grace the school with his presence (heavy sarcasm here), then it wasn't going to stop today. He locked his office and rooms, and swept through the halls looking like a man about to attend his own funeral. He stopped outside the door of the classroom and tried to collect his thoughts. It didn't work too well. The lecture part didn't bother him. Normally the question and answer part didn't bother him. But on the other side of the door sat thirty Gryffindor and Slytherin fifth year females. Wild, inexperienced, eager to learn creatures who probably knew more about the female reproductive system than he did. Probably knew more about the male reproductive system, come to think of it.  
  
"That's it. That is the LAST time I get drunk with McGonagall!" he vowed. "And this time I mean it!"  
  
He took a deep breath and opened the door. Walking swiftly to the front of the room, he had to remind himself of Patricia's earlier promise.  
  
"Ladies," he began, facing the girls. "I'm sure every one of you in here is aware of why I have to take this class. I'm also sure that every one of you in here has more knowledge of both the female and male reproductive system than I do. Am I right?"  
  
"Well, we do now," piped up one of the Slytherins. "Professor Eston already did the lecture. It was a unanimous decision among the female professors to leave the questions to you though."  
  
"Why me?" he asked, sinking into the chair.  
  
"I believe the professor mentioning something about you being the most experienced in this subject and a 'damn good lover' had something to do with it," one of the girls said.  
  
"Ten points from Gryffindor, Granger! And shut your mouth, some randy fifth year male may get ideas," he snapped. He looked at her with an expression that looked remarkably like interest and asked, "Did she really say I'm a damn good lover?"  
  
Hermione nodded with a scowl on her face.  
  
"Hmm.. Yes, Miss.?"  
  
"Brown, sir. Um, I heard from one of the boys about a 'doorbell analogy'. Could you explain it, please? I don't quite get it."  
  
"Well, um. er. well you see, it's like this. Next question?" he looked around frantically. Finally one of the Gryffindors raised her hand.  
  
"Did you really used to be lovers with Professor Lupin?"  
  
"Next question? And this time, try to make it relevant," he growled.  
  
"Say there's this guy. what would be the best way to. please him?" a Slytherin asked.  
  
"Well, I'm sure Mr. Malfoy would enjoy a hummer," he replied, relishing the look of embarrassment on her face when he mentioned Draco's name. One of the other Slytherins punched her in the arm with a look of pure fury on her face. "He's probably never received anything like it at all. And it would be over fairly quick, so you could get on to the more enjoyable business of eating your dinner."  
  
A few giggles escaped both Slytherins and Gryffindors and he allowed a small smile to show. He did know that witches generally hated giving oral. A Gryffindor raised her hand and he acknowledged her with a nod.  
  
"How would a girl pleasure. another girl?"  
  
"Oh for the love of Pete! Do I have to explain? I see nothing wrong with it, but I'm a professor! If you can't figure it out, then you're more of a dunderhead than I thought you were! Bloody Gryffindors."  
  
"Does Professor Eston really suck your. blood?" a Slytherin asked with a smirk on her face.  
  
"No, as a matter of fact, I don't enjoy getting all the blood in my body sucked out."  
  
"I didn't mean that, Professor."  
  
"Oh. Well, no, I don't ask her to do that," he admitted.  
  
"Why?"  
  
"Is my sex life any of your bloody business? NO!! I don't ask her to, because I know she hates it," he said quietly. The girls went silent. Professor Snape, the Potions Master didn't ask someone to do something because he knew she hated it.  
  
"Has Hell frozen over?" Hermione whispered. Snape looked up and fixed her of a stare worthy of the Basilisk.  
  
"No, Hell hasn't frozen over. I'm just afraid of her teeth," he said quickly. "She is equipped with a very sharp set of teeth. I might lose something that tends to be very useful at times," he elaborated when he saw the quizzical looks he was getting. "Yes?" he asked when a Gryffindor shot her hand up.  
  
"Is sex more meaningful when you love the person?" she asked shyly.  
  
"Well," he replied. "Sometimes. It depends on what type of person you are. For me, yes, it is more meaningful when I make love to Pat- I mean Professor Eston than it has been when I was free to have a different woman every night. Sex is sex. Making love is a whole different experience. When you sleep with a person you love, then you are creating a. connection I suppose would be the best word. You can have sex with anybody. Sex is just a pleasuring that allows the tension in your body to drain out. Making love is a connecting of two bodies and two minds. Making love creates a certain amount of tension, but it is good tension. Some people, (like the Malfoys, for instance) like the bodily pleasuring more than the connecting, and will sleep with anyone they come across. I don't know how to explain it any different than that. Sorry, ladies."  
  
A Gryffindor with a sly look on her face raised her hand.  
  
"Have you ever-"  
  
"That's enough girls," Patricia cut in suddenly. She was sitting on the windowsill, effectively hidden in the shadows. "If you have any more questions other than the ones we discussed before Professor Snape came," she paused long enough for the giggles to die away, "you may ask me after class or when I'm in my office. I thank you for your attention today. You are dismissed."  
  
They watched the girls file out of the room before they spoke.  
  
"What was that all about?" he demanded.  
  
"I took pity on you and talked to Minerva about taking over for you. She agreed, but only after I said I wouldn't tell you that you were off the hook," Patricia explained, clearing the desk.  
  
"And she didn't want to watch?" Snape asked in amazement.  
  
"The fire's green, Severus. The entire staff has been watching," Patricia said, pointing to the fireplace. He had been so nervous he hadn't even noticed the fire burning. Indeed, there were still tinges of green in the dying flames.  
  
"So she did watch."  
  
"Yep! And thought it was hysterically funny, by the way. Doorbell analogy? You're never going to live this one down. I have sharp teeth? Why were you so flustered?" she asked.  
  
"They were girls!" he exclaimed.  
  
"You know, I think they have that figured out already, hun."  
  
"Wouldn't you be flustered it you had to take the fifth year boys' lesson?" he asked.  
  
"Not particularly," she answered. "In fact, I think it would be great fun! You know how much more blunt I could be with them?"  
  
"Oh yeah."  
  
"What?" she asked.  
  
"I forgot I was talking to the most overly-sexed person in the school," he complained.  
  
"And don't you ever forget it again!" she teased. "Now, to business. You don't ask me to do. that because you know I hate it?" she asked softly.  
  
"Yeah. Can we drop the subject?" he growled. She smiled the way her dead husband used to smile when he heard something he wasn't sure was funny or not.  
  
"Yeah. Now about that doorbell analogy." she said.  
  
  
  
*the room starts to fade to black like on TV*  
  
  
  
"A damn good lover?" he questioned.  
  
"Only if you tell me about the doorbell thing."  
  
"Want a drink? I have a whole bottle of Irish-mmph!"  
  
  
  
*spit swapping noises*  
  
  
  
"No, I like you better," she said.  
  
  
  
*everything goes black*  
  
  
  
"Oh, THAT'S the doorbell analogy. well, you want in? I'm hard of hearing." 


End file.
